A little something I wrote today for a WIP, when I realized Ventress needed some appreciation.
Ventress spins around lightsabers igniting. “Who?”
“So tense,” a voice replies teasingly.
She glares into the shadows, then her eyes widens as she recognizes the young human man.
“You! You were with Kenobi.”
He leans against the wall as if he hasn’t a care in the world, and as if he’s not five feet from a Sith Apprentice with lit lightsabers. It pisses her off.
She stalks over, puts her lightsabers at his throat. He doesn’t even flinch. Merely holds her gaze calmly.
“Who are you?” She cannot quite hide the note of wonder in her voice.
“That’s not important.”
Ventress sneers and moves her lightsabers closer to the thin skin at his throat.
But he merely raises an eyebrow.
“So impatient,” he laments.
They stand at an impasse, the bastard knows she won’t cut through his neck at least until she has answers, because she is curious despite herself. She stands still and glares.
Enough time has apparently passed of her staying silent, because he smiles.
It feels like honest to Force praise and it unsettles her deeply.
“Now,” he touches her hands lightly applying the lightest of pressure, “some space would be nice.”
She actually lets him push her away, and she growls and turns off her sabers, attaching them to her belt, and stomps a few steps away from him.
She snorts. Folds her arms in front of her chest and waits expectantly. She doesn’t have to wait long.
“I represent a third party...” the man trails off, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
“Vader.” It clicks in her brain. Immediately her right saber in back in her hand, pointing angrily at the interloper. “What does he want with me?”
The man glances from her to the blade then back again and raises his eyebrows in a clear unimpressed message, this again?
She takes a deep breath and turns off the saber. “I should cut you down where you stand.”